The Way You Make Me Feel
by Catch Me
Summary: On the outside, she was good. She was very, very good. But now that the war was over, on the inside, she was bad. When no one was with her, she was bad. And when she saw him, he made her feel bad. DracoHermione
1. Chapter 1

She was a good girl. She worked hard, got good grades, had good friends, and to all who knew her, was a perfectly amicable girl. She never wore makeup, and her hair was kept pulled back severely from her face. On the outside, she was as good and as wholesome and meek as they came. On the outside, she was good. She was very, very good. But on the inside…she was hurting. When no one was with her, she was bad. And when she saw him, he made her feel bad. He made her feel like breaking every rule in the book, and then some, anything to have him. To claw his robes off and…

"Ms Granger, can you tell us the answer?" She was jerked back to reality as she was called upon for a question. Realizing she did not know the answer, as she had been thinking of someone that was not all that far from the topic of dark arts, she looked up at the teacher innocently, eyes wide.

"Professor, I'm afraid I didn't cover this in my reading last night. I was too busy reviewing the other chapters," she answered honestly. This answer seemed to satisfy Professor Flitwick, who continued to teach the lesson instead. She returned to her lesson with a sigh.

She wasn't always like this. But now, she hurt so much that this was the only way she had to express her anger. A ruined family life due to Lord Voldemorts rule had left her dependent upon the Weasly's. And more and more often, she sought the solace of her own company. But in the past few years the darkness that she had always suppressed had caught up with her. She was used to hiding the way she felt. She did it every day. Harry and Ron were, above anything else, male, and they did no do feelings.

But sometimes, she had to let it out, when she was too full to live with the raging emotions within her. When the anger at the way she was disregarded and looked over by all became too much, and she would be forced to do something that got all talking, even if they did not know her to be responsible. When letting the blood from her veins didn't rid her of all her demons, her little acts of rebelliousness did. And Draco ignores her, having no use for the one who rid him of his father. The only thing she had ever wanted. He did not acknowledge her existence. But he knew of the darkly clad woman who caused such a tumultuous uproar amongst the students and staff, whose presence made every one pay attention. And for her, for now, it gave her all the more reason to continue being bad. Because her escapades tormented him the same way he tormented her.

(&(

It had happened again. A mysterious dark clad woman had been seen walking the corridors. Draco was intrigued. How was the woman getting into the castle? And why was she here? He had thought he had seen her himself many times. A glimpse of a shadow, a flick of the hair…he had seen this woman. And he wanted her. She was an enigma to him, and he hated mystery.

He threw his quill down in disgust. He was unable to concentrate. The dark haired mud-blood haunted the shelves in front of him. She did not know he was there, but she annoyed him none the less, her very presence disturbing him.

"You!" he snapped, and she whipped around, her thick plait of hair swinging around to hit her in the face. He smiled cruelly. "Get out of here. You are disturbing me." She looked at him for a moment, as though considering refusing. But then, her shoulders bent, and she crept out of the library, mumbling an apology, every bone in her body screaming at her to go back and show him she was not to be played with. But she did not. She was good at being good. She no longer had the strength to fight with Draco after the final battles she had faced. Alone. And for now, she would let him think that she was defeated. He time would come.

Under the cover of darkness, she crept from the room she shared with one other girl, the other Gryffindor prefect, and over to the window. She never looked back, drawing a slim potion bottle from the pocket of her muggle clothes, form fitting clothes that made her previously hidden curved body into a beacon for anything with testosterone. She left the room, closing the door softly behind her. She then walked through the common room, her heeled boots making loud resonating sounds upon the cobblestones, that seemed to echo through the room. She didn't care. It was part of the thrill. Her wand was in her hand, as though it were nothing more than a splinter of wood. She left the room, out of the bottom of the hidden staircase. She walked the halls of Hogwarts, as she did every time she felt she was getting a little too good. Every time someone trod on her, or pushed past her, or demanded her to do something, and she was too shy to stick up for herself. Every time Harry ignored her, too caught up in his own guilt over leaving her alone to face the last remnants of Voldemorts followers when he did, or Ron slavered after another girl like a dog in heat. Whilst it suited her to be good, (you could get away with so much more) right now, she needed to be bad.

She walked the halls, her boots announcing her presence before any could see her. As she rounded the corner, Professor Snape stood, wand at the ready, waiting for her. He did not take her for one of the students in the darkness. And he certainly did not recognize the meek little seventh year that Hermione Granger had become. What he did see was the long dark hair, the come hither expression in her blue eyes, and the luscious curves of her body, only just contained in the form fitting clothing she wore. His breathe caught in his throat, and when he spoke, his words stumbled, all coherent thought gone. The woman had a dangerous aura about her. "Wh-who are you? Why are you in Hogwarts corridors?" he tried to sound menacing, but failed. He tried to command the same respect from her as he did from all others. Again, he failed. She respected no one. And after the war, least of all him. She smirked, before walking right past him, flicking her wand idly, a memory modifying charm settling over him, and when he blinked, he remembered nothing, her boots already having carried her far away.

She returned to the library, where her presence instantly set off an alarm. She took her time in climbing out the window, creeping around the low roof of the turrets and many corridors of the castle, the cool night air feeding her adrenaline. She entered the next window she saw, seeing with a smirk that it was wide open. She stepped onto the sill, mysterious and sleek like the creature of the night she was. And he watched her silhouette with widened eyes that had previously been staring out the window, unable to find sleep. She saw the figure on the bed stare at him, one curtain pulled back, and she gave him a saucy smile, hands on her hips. He watched her, lust filling his gaze and his body as she paced the window sill like a cat. His pale hair betraying his identity to her. But nothing about her reminding him of the meek little rabbit he had sent scurrying from the library earlier that evening, or even of the stubborn teenager with the bushy hair that once plagued him. He did not recognize her. The boy sleeping next to him, Breidie, opened his eyes at the sound of her heels on the stone, as she jumped from the sill, and made her way over to the bed where Draco slept, crawling across, it, crawling until she was over him, and he stared up at her, an arrogant smirk on his face, his hands coming to pull her hips down to his.

She refused, laughing softly, huskily, arrogantly. She held the cards here. He growled in frustration, trying to pull her to him, but she dodged his hands again. She leant down and kissed him swiftly, roughly, but as soon as her lips were there, they were gone, as was she, out of the window. Draco looked up to see the curtains at the window fluttering in the breeze. And nothing. He growled in frustration, the brief, bruising caress of her lips not enough, leaving him raging with desire, and convinced that it must have been a dream, looked down at his hardened length in disgust. Now he would never get to sleep. But he was not the only one who lay awake that night. Breidie, the youth who occupied the bed next to Draco's did, also, thinking on all he had heard, from the heeled boots to the low laugh, to Draco's frustrated groan. This was most interesting. The Dark Woman had struck again.

**A/N: I really love reviews. Please? Let me know what you think? If I should continue?**


	2. chapter 2

When she awoke the next morning, the dark makeup she had worn was streaked across her pillow, and her hair was out, mussed out of control, as she had been last night. Oh God, what had she done? Once more the sheer recklessness of her behavior made her dread the day ahead. The more she tried to control herself during the day, the worse it became at night. She had be-spelled a teacher! And she had….as her memory caught up with her, she fell back to the pillows with widened eyes. She had seen him. She had had him. He had wanted her. He had seen the real her, and had been left wanting more. Had he recognized her? No, he couldn't have.

She got up, and began to prepare for the day, the homework that she had somehow managed to finish last night, despite the suppressed darkness within her that had wanted out.

Sometimes she promised herself that she would stop the little escapades of hers, those that threatened the valuable standing and reputation she held. She would convince herself she didn't need the frozen faced youth who tormented her so often. But then something would happen, that would cause the little bit of darkness to rise up inside of her. And then, she was near out of control. And she would need him then. She wanted to stop this pointless rebellion. It was a release, nothing more, and it hadn't gained her anything so far, except another day of being able to bare the torture of being someone she wasn't. It was risking too much to be bad the way she wanted to be. It was risking too much to be herself, who was like him. He was free. She caged herself in fear of destroying all she had worked to create. She would stop, she promised herself. But as always, something else happened. Someone else would inevitably see her as invisible, as worthless, and they would tread on her. _He_ would tread on her. And for that, she had to tread on him.

Still, despite all her resolve not to see him, she found herself on the sill to his room that very night, with him staring at her from his place in a chair, expecting her.

"Come to me," he murmured huskily, wanting her, steepling his fingers.

She jumped from the sill, but did not approach him. She paced to the other side of the room, his eyes stalking her across the room. He sat up a little straighter, his hands now gripping the arms of the chair.

"I said come to me." He demanded again, becoming angry at her defiance of him. She smiled smugly, making her way slowly, one step at a time across to the now thoroughly frustrated Draco, stopping just out of his grasp. He reached for her, growling in his annoyance, but she neatly side stepped out of the way, laughing arrogantly.

"I'll come when I feel like it," she said archly, hands on hips, cocking her partially masked head at him. Draco leapt for her then, but she again dodged out of the way, sending him onto his bed. Before he could gain any perspective on this sudden turn of events, he felt someone…_her_, straddling him. He pulled her to him roughly, and kissed her hard. She thrust her tongue against his, as they consumed each other, his hand finding its way swiftly into the tight confines of her clothing, before she pulled away from him. He tried to find her lips again with his, but she pulled her head away.

"I don't think so," she ground out, punctuating each word with a grind of her hips against his already straining arousal, and then, reached down to kiss him again. He growled at her obvious dominance, and reached up to try and rip her mask off. He had just managed to catch hold of it, when she slapped his hand away, pinning it above his head, before darting away, and back out the window, across the roof top. He slammed his hands down onto the bed with frustration, both sexual and emotional, and groaned into the still night air. Almost. He had almost seen who she was. Once again, Breidie, who slept in the same room, lay awake, listening to all that had occurred. He would speak to Draco about this on the morrow. Perhaps between them, something could be done to reign in the minx.

&&

The next morning, at the breakfast table, rumors once more flew of a dark woman who stalked the halls. Hermione ignored the excited chatter around her, and tried to eat her breakfast. But she was pulled from her reverie by Harry.

"Well?" he asked, looking at her expectantly.

"What?" she asked, making herself pay attention. Harry rolled his eyes.

"You weren't even listening," he said, curious as to what held his friends attention.

"Sorry. What did you say?"

"I asked you what you though of this Dark Woman? Ghost, or teacher on a power trip?" Harry asked, once more returning to his question.

"Ahhh…what makes you think it isn't a student?" she asked, trying to sound nonchalant. To all but the one who stood behind her, listening intently, she succeeded. Draco listened carefully to the conversation, which he had overheard completely by accident in passing. The Mud-bloods question had peaked his curiosity.

"Well, I don't know, but come on, I mean think of everyone we know. Can you see any of them stalking the halls, attacking other students and spelling teachers?"

"She did not attack a student Harry."

Draco sat at the Ravenclaw table, which was behind the Gryffindor table, and ignored the strange looks the Ravenclaw's dealt him. He listened to the conversation taking place behind him.

"How do you know?" Ron asked, curious too. He had his own theory about this dark woman. She was a sneaking up on the male students, having sex with them, and then modifying their memories. He himself, was certain, that he had been with the Dark woman several times. If only he could remember it.

"I just….don't listen to the rumors, that's all. I bet there isn't really a dark woman. Just a bad dream of one of the students." The excuse sounded weak even to her. But then, the bell tolled for them to move to class. Saved, she thought, as she gathered her books and hurried off. Draco watched her go, pondering all that had been said. The little mud blood knew something. And he intended to find out what it was.

**A?N thankyou all for my lovely reviews. Let me know what you tink of the new chapter! Thanks very much**


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